


The Unnecessary Rescue of Hermione Granger

by Aneiria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Fantasy, F/M, Flash Fic, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heroism, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Pining, Post-War, Rescue Missions, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria
Summary: Asking a Slytherin for help is one thing, but asking ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy is another thing entirely. Ron Weasley has little choice, however, when Hermione Granger goes missing in the Forbidden Forest. Can the two old foes work together long enough to save the woman they both love from a dark fate?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73
Collections: Dumbledore's Armada: Wheel of Death Flash Fiction Comp





	The Unnecessary Rescue of Hermione Granger

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Wheel of Death Flash Fiction Comp hosted by Frumpologist in Dumbledore's Armada Discord Server. My chosen character was Draco Malfoy. My Wheel of Death prompts were Ron Weasley, 7th/8th year, heroism, and Lord Byron's quote 'Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey'.
> 
> Huge thanks to Grace Lou Freebush for the beta! <3 <3

‘Alright, I’m coming, for Merlin’s sake!’

Draco Malfoy rolled out of bed and pulled on a green cashmere jumper, grumbling as he did.

Someone was hammering relentlessly on the door to his dorm.

It was past curfew, not even the weekend. Draco had potions first thing, and Slughorn never went easy on him.

This had better be good.

Draco’s mood did not improve when he saw his least favourite Weasley waiting on the other side of the door, blue eyes worried and red hair dishevelled, in his too-short pyjamas and a grotesque jumper with an enormous ‘R’ knitted into the middle of it.

Draco sighed loudly. ‘Weaselbee,’ he snarled. ‘To what do I owe the displeasure?’

Weasley tried to return Draco’s sneer, but he was unconvincing.

‘Not now, Malfoy,’ he said, his voice halfway between exasperation and desperation. ‘I hate to say this, but – I need your help.’

That got Draco’s attention, at least. Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

‘You’ve got five seconds, Weasley.’

Turned out, Weasley only needed two.

‘It’s Hermione. She’s in danger.’

Draco cursed under his breath and straightened up, casting a wandless Accio to summon his hawthorn wand to him. It flew into his hand, warm to the touch. Potter had returned it after the battle, and Draco was grateful for the small piece of normality his old wand had restored.

‘What’s happened?’ Draco asked now, not hiding his concern.

Hermione Granger had been the first person to offer Draco amnesty at Hogwarts.

Draco had been mandated to return for the special eighth year and finish his education. Only five other students had come back, one of them of course being Hermione Granger. No one could keep her away from the books for an extra year. And because she returned, Ron Weasley had followed, usually found around school hand in hand with the girlfriend who was – in Draco’s opinion – miles out of his league.

The other eighth years ignored Draco completely, and even the younger Slytherins steered clear of him.

Hermione, though, did what she always did: championed the underdog. On the first night back in the eighth-year common room, clearly seeing how Draco was maligned, she marched over to him, book in hand, and dropped unceremoniously next to him on the sofa.

They didn’t talk, not at first, but by the seventh night, they’d managed to hold a polite conversation about the first assignment they’d been given in Ancient Runes. Gradually, the Gryffindor Golden Girl had become the closest thing Draco had to a friend at Hogwarts.

Draco pulled on a pair of dragonhide boots over his pyjamas and followed Weasley down the corridors of Hogwarts, listening to him prattle on about Hermione. She’d gone out before dusk, apparently, to collect some fresh Potions’ ingredients from the Forbidden Forest. The sun had set two hours ago, and she hadn’t yet returned.

‘Dammit, Weasley, why didn’t you come for me earlier?’ Draco hissed, trying not to worry. Granger could handle herself, after all.

Weasley winced and kept his head down. ‘Well, I didn’t want to piss you off, but there was no one else I could go to, and you know – there are _things_ in the forest.’ Weasley broke off and cast a furtive look out of the nearest window. The moon shone silently back. ‘There are _spiders_ in there.’

Draco managed to stifle a snort of laughter – not an easy feat – but Weasley seemed to sense it anyway.

‘Not _normal_ spiders, Malfoy,’ Weasley said, his voice fearful. ‘Acromantula. Spiders the size of cars.’ Weasley shuddered, and Draco mildly contemplated the fact that Ronald Weasley was more scared of giant spiders than he was walking into a dangerous forest side by side with a Death Eater.

 _Ex-Death Eater_ , he heard Granger’s voice echo primly in his mind. She was so insistent that Draco had been a child during the war, that he had been acting under the will of abusive adults.

Draco wasn’t entirely convinced.

He’d wanted it at the time, hadn’t he? Had been proud even, of the Dark Lord singling him out to take the Mark over any of his classmates. Of the chance to prove himself.

He and Weasley walked out of the castle, and Draco shivered against the chill of the autumn evening, casting a quick warming spell. They marched past the burned ruin of Hagrid’s cabin, abandoned while the groundskeeper took a sabbatical following the war, and came to a stop on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They stood side by side, blond hair by red, and peered into the gloom.

‘Did she say what she was looking for?’ Draco asked hopefully. Anything to give them a clue where to start looking.

‘Something about marshmallows?’ Weasley said weakly, and Draco shook his head in despair.

‘You mean mallow,’ he corrected. ‘Odd.’

‘What’s so odd about that?’ Weasley asked.

Draco took a deep breath and strode into the forest, not slowing down for Weasley to catch up. Weasley’s legs were long enough to cover the distance, and Hermione had been alone in the forest for hours by now. There was no time to waste.

‘Mallow doesn’t really have many uses in Potions,’ Draco explained, speaking quietly as Weasley drew alongside him. ‘But it _is_ used extensively in Divination, especially among the centaurs.’

Draco knew where the biggest patch of mallow grew in the forest, and he muttered ‘point me’ to his wand, letting it direct him.

‘But – but Hermione _hates_ Divination,’ Weasley said unnecessarily. Even the Slytherins had heard about Hermione’s infamous outburst at Professor Trelawney in their third year.

‘Exactly. Comes to the Forest a lot, does she, Weasley?’ Draco asked now, and Weasley hummed in agreement. ‘Sounds like maybe she’s not been telling you the whole truth.’

Weasley fell silent, and Draco almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Draco cast another directional spell with his wand, and they made their way through the dark trees, Draco casting a silent thanks to Hecate that they had passed through the forest unscathed so far.

Draco could practically hear the wheels of Weasley’s brain turning as they went, and he was happy not to have to engage in conversation.

After all, a Malfoy being jealous of a Weasley? Draco’s father could never hear about _that_.

Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by a disturbingly loud crash from somewhere ahead of them. Weasley stumbled into him, his hand grabbing Draco’s arm in alarm.

‘What the ruddy hell was that?’ Weasley asked weakly, peering fruitlessly into the darkness. Draco had to take a deep breath to keep his voice from shaking.

‘Nothing good, by the sounds of it.’

They’d come to a halt, Weasley’s hand still clasped around Draco’s arm, and Draco cast a _Lumos_ and took a closer look around. He aimed his wand at the ground and couldn’t help hissing when he saw the tracks.

‘What is it?’ Weasley whispered, still too loud in the quiet of the forest. Draco nodded down to the ground, and Weasley’s gaze followed his. There was a track of wolf prints in the mud. They reached the edge of the clearing, heading towards where the crash had sounded, before turning around and doubling back.

‘Even wolves fear to prey here,’ Draco muttered. Weasley squeaked in alarm and tightened his grip.

‘We have to go in,’ Weasley said, his voice scared but firm. ‘We have to find her, Malfoy.’

Draco took another deep breath, silently cursing whatever luck had somehow entangled him with the affairs of Gryffindors, and nodded. ‘In we go, then, Weasley. Together. Wands raised.’

Weasley cast his own _Lumos_ , and side by side, slowly but bravely, they walked towards the sound.

A glint on a branch he was moving caught Draco’s eye. He plucked it from the bark, illuminating it in the light of his wand and handing it wordlessly to Weasley. It was unmistakably one of Hermione’s long, curly hairs. They shared a look of grim determination and went deeper.

Another crash, closer this time. They heard a familiar cry of alarm and broke into a run at the same time, wands raised high.

Hermione was somewhere nearby, and she was in trouble.

When they burst out into another clearing, panting heavily and hearts beating quickly from exertion and fear, they found her.

But not quite how they were expecting.

She was screaming, yes, but with laughter, tears streaming down her face. The clearing was alight with hundreds of tiny bluebell flames in the branches of the surrounding trees, and sitting in front of Hermione, towering over her like a Ukranian ironbelly, was a giant.

An actual, bloody giant.

Draco hesitated. The last time he’d seen a giant had been at the final battle, when they were battering down the Hogwarts defences and indiscriminately killing his classmates. This one was strangely familiar, though, with his dark hair and rosy cheeks.

‘Grawp?’ Weasley’s voice was incredulous, and as he spoke both Hermione and the giant looked up. Hermione looked as guilty as a niffler in a Gringotts vault, and the giant – Grawp – looked at Hermione with uncertainty.

‘Hermy?’ he rumbled, reaching out with his huge hand. It rested on the ground next to Hermione, the size of a hippogriff, and Hermione put her hand on his, stroking it reassuringly.

‘It’s okay, Grawp,’ she said soothingly, ‘these are our friends.’

 _Friends_.

Draco’s stomach twisted in a strange way hearing Granger say that word while looking at him. The giant smiled trustingly at Hermione and watched with mild interest as she got to her feet, brushing twigs and leaves from her jeans. She shrugged awkwardly.

‘I guess I lost track of time…’ she said sheepishly, leaning forward to kiss Weasley on the cheek. As if a sleeping monster had woken in his chest, Draco had to stop himself from growling at the sight.

‘Blimey, ‘Mione, how long have you been visiting him for?’ Weasley was saying now, and as Hermione opened her mouth to reply, Draco interrupted.

‘Is anyone going to tell me what exactly is going on here?’ he asked, putting as much iciness into his voice as he could. Weasley rolled his eyes, but Hermione moved towards Draco. She laid a gentle hand on his forearm, her eyes warm and inviting, and it was all Draco could do to not sweep her into his arms.

‘Draco, Grawp is Hagrid’s brother,’ Hermione explained. ‘Different mums, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Draco drawled. But Hermione didn’t move her hand, and he didn’t move away.

‘I’ve been visiting him while Hagrid’s away. Just to keep him company. I – I didn’t want him to be bullied, so I’ve been keeping it quiet.’

Draco looked up at the giant, finding it hard to believe how something that _big_ could be bullied, and Hermione dropped her hand from Draco’s arm, leaving a cold, empty feeling in his heart as she did.

Hermione bid farewell to the giant, who waved cheerfully, and reached out to take Weasley’s hand. As she led them from the clearing and through the forest back towards the castle, she and Weasley held their heads close in quiet conversation.

Draco followed slowly behind, mulling things over. He may have been rejected by the rest of his housemates, but he was still a Slytherin, after all.

And Slytherins dealt in secrets and shrewdness.

In the space of one evening, Draco had learned three important things.

One: Weasley was terrified of deadly, man-eating Acromantula, who lived in the Forbidden Forest at a location Draco happened to know.

Two: Weasley would do _anything_ for Granger, even face his phobia of deadly, man-eating Acromantula. Weasley’s love would find a way through paths where he would usually fear to tread.

And three, the most interesting and valuable of all: there was a tiny part of Ronald Weasley that _trusted_ Draco Malfoy.

Draco allowed himself a small, wicked smile, and made a promise to himself.

Before they reached the end of Hogwarts, Weasley would be out of the way, and Granger would be _his_.


End file.
